


like she pulls on the sea

by sapphea



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, M/M, in that kat and sarah exist in the same universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:45:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphea/pseuds/sapphea
Summary: That full-bellied moon, she's a-shinin' on meAnd she pulls on this heart like she pulls on the sea.Katherine's not really good with words.





	like she pulls on the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [srididdledeedee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/srididdledeedee/gifts).



> steph this is for u bc u inspired me to turn ur one-man kingdom of newsbians into a kingdom of two, and also as thanks for sending me the song that inspired this, even though i took the title from a different song. mr. alan isakov just gets it, huh
> 
> title from "that moon song" by gregory alan isakov

Katherine’s not really good with words.

Well, no, that’s not quite right. It might be easier it that’s all it was, a simple inability to construct sentences. Because the whole point of Katherine’s life, actually, is that she _is_ good with words-- direct, cutting words, carrying hard facts in the most efficient and poignant way. Words have power, she’s known that since she could form them herself. How could she not know, with who her father is? With everything that happened during the strike? Words are the greatest weapon she has.

But right now they’ve turned against her. Betrayed her in her moment of most dire need.

Because Katherine’s clever with words when it comes to reporting and shooting quips at stupid boys who look at her and see her skirt and long hair before her personhood, but she’s not so good when it comes to expressing herself.

Again, she scolds herself, that’s not exactly true. Her reporting _is_ an expression of herself, of her beliefs and experiences. It’s _feelings_ that she’s having trouble with.

It’s _feelings_ that have her hunched over her desk late at night, wasting ridiculous amounts of candles and paper and ink, head in her hands.

This is all Sarah Jacobs’ fault. How dare she make Katherine doubt the most integral part of herself, render her unable to do what Katherine feels she was put on this Earth to do? How dare she make Katherine feel things she doesn’t have the words to explain?

How dare she drive Katherine to this?

She glares at the inoffensive line of _Dear Sarah_ scrawled across the top of her current page venomously. This is the eleventh time she’s written that opening.

If Katherine could just pinpoint exactly how Sarah makes her feel, this would all be so much easier. But for the first time in her life, Katherine doesn’t have the words.

Sarah makes her feel things she’s never felt before. Sometimes it seems like no other human being has ever felt what Sarah Jacobs makes her feel.

 _Breathtaking_ is part of it, that’s for sure; _heart-stopping_ comes to mind, but doesn’t explain how the way Sarah’s eyes squint when she laughs makes Katherine feel like she’s living three lives at once. _Lovestruck_ is a good one-- Katherine does feel Sarah’s gaze like a physical blow. Yet it doesn’t do justice to the gentle warmth that spreads from their clasped hands, the burning in her chest when Sarah leans her head on her shoulder. And pet names are elusive to Katherine, much to her chagrin; _lover_ and _my darling_ and _star of my heart_ don’t sit quite right on her tongue or the nib of her pen. Especially when she’s not yet sure they’d be welcome to Sarah’s eyes or ears.

She looks out her window and sees the full moon hanging bright and heavy in the sky. She can’t help the smile that pulls at her lips-- she always thinks of Sarah when looking at the moon. _A natural satellite of the Earth._ Frank, a little cold, yet bright. Unashamed of its flaws. Beautiful. With a natural magnetism that moves oceans. How fitting that Sarah finds such comfort in a perfect metaphor for herself.

 _Lunatic_ , Katherine thinks to herself. _One who is driven to madness by the moon_.

And like a dam breaking, the words come.

 

Sunlight had long replaced the silver light of the moon by the time Katherine finished her project, but she finds she doesn’t mind the lack of sleep. It’s Thursday, which means Katherine is needed at the _Sun_ , but her late-night activities guarantee she has two hours before she needs to punch in. Katherine blows gently on the paper in front of her to ensure the ink has dried before folding it and slipping it into a pocket.

The walk to Rivington Street isn’t short, but the cool morning air keeps Katherine’s trek pleasant. In another hour the August sun will burn away the gentle breeze, making even a short journey outside unbearable, but for now Katherine enjoys the way the breeze toys with her hair.

As she approaches the tenement, a gangly figure comes into view. David’s cap is set at an angle that can’t be described as anything but jaunty, and he has a look on his face that says if he weren’t so concerned about not drawing attention to himself he might whistle a tune.

 _A satisfied cat if I’ve ever seen one_ , Katherine thinks to herself. _I hope the canary is a little less intolerable at the office_.

“Nice night, David?” Katherine asks as she approaches, David’s surprised brow doing nothing to destroy the perfect image of smug satisfaction.

“Kath,” he greets. “I could have met you at our usual spot. I’m not even running late today!”

“Yes, well, I figured it was time I actually get something out of this deal,” Katherine says. David’s other eyebrow rises. She takes the letter out of her pocket and offers it to David. “Let’s see you play postman, too, for once.”

A knowing grin replaces surprise. “For Sarah?”

Katherine rolls her eyes. “No, Les.”

David laughs, offering his own letter. “Fair enough exchange rate on my end. I suppose I can oblige you this once, madam.”

The feverish excitement that carried her through hours of writing and her journey to the Lower East Side is interrupted by a spark of nervousness that causes the breath to catch in her throat. But she’s Katherine Plumber, so she hands the letter to David anyway.

“Your service astounds and humbles me, sir,” she quips to hide her nervousness, but she can see that David noticed her hesitation because his eyes go soft. She preferred the smugness.

“If it means anything, I’m glad you’re doing this,” he says, quiet even though there’s no one else on the street. “She’d never do anything first.”

Katherine lets out a breath. “I just hope she’ll do something second.”

The letters trade hands, and with a nod David and Katherine depart in opposite directions, carrying each others’ hearts.

 

The canary, it turns out, is even more unbearable than the cat.

Jack waltzes into Katherine office ten minutes later than his usual fifteen-minutes-late routine, eyes squinting in a self-satisfied smirk. He even presses an obnoxious kiss to Katherine’s cheek when she hands him the letter.

“I didn’t think it was possible for Jack Kelly to be more insufferable than he already was,” Katherine says.

“Well, I aim ta impress,” Jack shoots back through a grin. “Anyway, I’ll have those sketches for ya before lunch, then I was thinkin’ I’s could knock off early--”

“You, leave work early? Unheard of.”

“Well, y’see, Dave’s only workin’--”

“Yeah, yeah, I figured it was something like that.” Katherine waves a hand dismissively. “Just have the cartoons on my desk by noon and I’ll cover for you.”

Jack smiles sincerely this time, and Katherine’s heart warms against its will. “I owe ya one, Kath.”

“You owe me at least twelve, and I _will_ be cashing in,” she warns, but Jack’s already kissing her cheek again and she has no choice but to accept it with good grace.

And then the union forming at the fabric factory takes over, and Katherine forgets everything except the smell of her pencilled notes and the clatter of her typewriter and the familiar rush of writing.

By the time she remembers the world has continued to spin since she first sat down the sun had made significant progress across the sky: shadows reach for her instead of leaning away. She notices her coffee cup had been refilled, and even though it’s long gone cold Katherine takes an appreciative sip. Jack didn’t leave a note, but the cartoons on her desk are inked, lacking only a caption to be ready for print.

Katherine scrawls the captions quickly then runs both her and Jack’s work down to the printing room. Her lightheadedness tells her she was an idiot for skipping lunch. She promises her tired body that food is just a brief ways away, but her stomach grumbles moodily in response.

Thursday nights are special: Sarah, David, and Les come to her apartment for tea. It makes all of them feel ridiculously grown-up, but none more so than Les. Thursdays are the highlight of Katherine’s week.

Yet tonight, as she makes herself a small supper, she finds herself dreading the approach of eight o’clock. She tries to keep herself busy between making her apartment presentable and preparing the tea, but her thoughts return to Sarah’s possible reactions. Would she even broach the subject, with both of her brothers present? Was Katherine’s letter welcome? What if Sarah didn’t even come?

The one benefit of getting lost in her anxieties is that before she knew it her clock strught eight and, punctual as always, a sharp knock came from her door. Katherine steeled herself with a deep breath before standing, smoothing her skirt, and moving to answer.

Katherine has heard the phrase _easy on the eyes_ circulating lately, and while it comes to mind as she looks at Sarah, she finds it lacking to describe her. For one, in spite of her soft brown curls and warm cheeks, Sarah has a quiet strength to her. It lives in her eyes and the way she holds her mouth, stubborn and firm. Sarah catches the eye, that’s for certain, but does not make anything _easy_ for the beholder.

It takes Katherine a moment to realize her musings have kept her from noticing that Sarah has arrived alone. Before she can ask, Sarah says, “David took Les for ice cream. I thought-- and he agreed-- that we should have a more private conversation tonight.”

Katherine is having trouble reading Sarah’s tone, but she nods in agreement and welcomes her inside. “I assume you received my letter?” she asks lightly, hoping it covers the tremors of anxiety she feels.

“It will be dangerous,” says Sarah, blunt as always.

“Excuse me?”

“It will be dangerous, and difficult, for us.”

Katherine’s eyebrows furrow in indignation. “Jack and David carry on well enough.”

Sarah nods. “Yes, but they are men. We are not afforded much of their liberties.”

“Well, we’re alone right now, aren’t we? And we can be alone again,” Katherine argues. “That should count for something.”

“By deceiving my parents and with the cooperation of my brother,” Sarah points out, stepping closer to Katherine. “What happens when we are even a few years older, and expecting to marry?”

Sarah is rejecting her, Katherine realizes. “Do you want to marry?” she asks, heart breaking. “Is that why you don’t want me?”

“Don’t be dense, Kat,” Sarah says, confused. “Of course I want you.”

“What? Then why--”

“As I said,” Sarah’s voice is softer, and she moves even closer, taking Katherine’s hands in her own. “It will be difficult and dangerous, not to mention secret.” Finally, Sarah smiles, and in spite of her words there’s no hint of hesitance. “But you are worth the struggle.”

To her horror, Katherine feels tears come to her eyes as she breaks into a helpless smile. “Why Sarah, I never thought of you as a romantic.”

Sarah shakes her head exasperatedly. “You’re the one who wrote me a _love letter_ , Kat,” she says, and she’s smiling, too.

Factually speaking, moonlight can’t have a taste, because it doesn’t exist physically. But in the non-objective world of her heart, Katherine thinks that’s the only way to describe their first kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> my lesbian ass, tagging jack/david even though they only show up for 2 seconds: hee hee hee oh how the turntables


End file.
